Friday, 28 December 2012


What shall we talk about – what’s up
(we’ve got a little bit of time)
and who will speak and who will follow whom
(what’s new upon this kitchen table top)

and shall we circle round and round
(with eyes and ears and touch and tongue)
giving little pats-on-the-head
(and will we choose to work, eat, dance or sing or sleep)?

Who shall we please and who not please
(tomorrow and tomorrow’s ace
encounters, meetings, semaphore)

or hate or care or love, respect,
or look across the surfaces
and feel for sudden truth - and trust?

Tuesday, 25 December 2012

Every year

it’s clear
that Xmas day is my mate
John’s birthday

and any old glitter on the table,
scissors and sellotape,
will be in play.

As two festivals collide
he often gets the thought
that, ultimately,  everything unites

although, as he looks out through
swiveling snow,
we know that (deep down) too

it bugs him – because
he keeps squinting to the East,
waiting for the next Jesus

coming - the second one
who will turn the table, soften
his inevitable burden.